


Battle Scars

by shot_gun_shuts_his_cakehole



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, Gen, Hell Trauma, Hurt Sam, Hurt Sam Winchester, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Jack Kline, Sam Winchester Has Mental Health Issues, Sam Winchester Has PTSD, Sam Winchester Needs a Hug, Sam Winchester-centric, Trauma From Lucifer's Cage (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21726664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shot_gun_shuts_his_cakehole/pseuds/shot_gun_shuts_his_cakehole
Summary: Sam has a bad dream, well, more like a bad memory. Lucifer's death and Dean's recent brush with Michael causes the cage trauma Sam tries so hard to push down everyday, to come barreling to the surface. Sam being Sam, says nothing and tries to deal with it alone until one very bad, very loud nightmare causes concern from everyone in the bunker. Dean is sad and angry and helpless. Cas feels guilty and Sam, well besides the usual terror, feels done. Jack and Mary are confused. For once, the boys talk about their feelings. Set roughly sometime in early Season 14.
Relationships: Castiel & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Jack Kline & Sam Winchester, Lucifer & Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 18
Kudos: 173





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was basically born from me wanting more brotherly moments and for the show to actually acknowledge Sam's trauma. So be prepared for lots of Sam angst and a lot of comfort from Dean, Mary, Cas and Jack. This fic might be slightly out of character, but only in terms of Sam and Dean actually using their words and talking to each other about their pain, when the barely do on the show. Enjoy!
> 
> PS. I am still working on "Bury the Past", I'm just very busy so it's going slowly and I've had this in my notes for a while now and thought I'd post it in the mean time.

Sam was dealing, he really was. The issue was that Sam's way of dealing was by not dealing. Whenever anything traumatic happened, there was always something else to focus on instead. There was always some world ending nightmare to solve that was more important than Sam's feelings. It may not exactly be healthy and Sam may not exactly be the poster boy for good mental health, but not dealing had always been a pretty effective way of handling his problems. Until it wasn't. Until Sam couldn't keep running. Until Sam could finally breath for a second, and the relief of dealing with the most recent apocalypse in a long line of many near misses was clouded by all the fear and pain and memories that Sam had been not dealing with. It always happened. It was inevitable and maybe it was sign that Sam needed a better way to handle things, but you couldn't just tell Michael to hold off destroying the entire world for five minutes so Sam could get some therapy. So the toxic cycle went on and on.

Lucifer had died. And Sam hadn't known how to feel about it. He'd felt so many different emotions, that he didn't know which one to pick. So many emotions flooded Sam's heart. Relief. Joy. Fear. Confusion. Pain. Hatred. Euphoria. Even...Sam hated himself for it, but he even felt grief. Sam wanted to cry and laugh and break, but there was no time. No time to feel, because Dean, Sam's big brother, his hero, the man who'd managed to bring down Sam's abuser for good, was gone. Not only gone, but drowning in the torment that was being possessed and god, Sam knew the pain of that. He knew the suffocation of housing an archangel. He needed to save his brother, so he pushed away his feelings. He pushed away the momentary panic whenever he saw Nick and for a split second, forgot that it wasn't  him . So for a while, Sam actively didn't deal with all his crap because his focus needed to be on Dean.

Then, Dean was back. Dean was free and their family was whole again and it wasn't perfect and it wasn't easy, but it was enough.

They still had Michael to deal with though. Michael. The other archangel who'd tormented Sam for centuries. Not their Michael though, Sam had to remind himself constantly. This wasn't the same Michael who'd hurt Sam. Still, the archangel just served as a reminder for his time in hell and Sam's mind didn't need any reminders, his brain was happy enough to go there anyway. Sam tried to do his usual. Michael could flatten the entire planet. They needed to deal with him. Usually, that would be enough for Sam to put one foot forward, but for some reason, Sam wasn't coping like he usually did. He had nightmares. That wasn't new for Sam, but they were the bad type. The type that lasted so long, and were so vivid that in those moment, they might as well had been real. Then when Sam woke up, whatever memory his sleeping mind had provided him with plagued Sam through the day, making him distant and jumpy. Sam had no doubt that Dean had caught on. Dean knew him too well. Sometimes Dean would look at Sam a little too intensely, eye's imploring,  _you can talk to me Sammy_.  But Dean had been through too much recently to put his own crap on him. Sam knew all too well the trauma possession leaves behind. So he'd looked away and shrugged it off. Told himself that he was fine. And he was fine. If Sam tried hard enough, he could manage to convince himself that he really was okay.

He was okay.

* * *

Sam wasn't okay. Dean knew that in his gut. He knew because he'd spent enough time being the sole person left to pick up the broken pieces of Sam every single time something awful and unimaginable happened to him. And something awful and unimaginable was almost always happening to Sam. So yeah, Dean knew the tells Sam had when he was struggling to keep his head above water.

Sam was pretty good at fooling people. Sam had enough practice when it came to pretending to be okay. Dean was pretty sure Mary and Jack hadn't noticed the pain that Dean could practically see radiating off Sam. Dean wasn't so sure about Cas. The angel often seemed clueless to human emotions, but Cas always surprised them with his insight into the brother's difficulties. Whether or not Cas knew, Dean had noticed. He wanted to help Sam, to be there for his brother. After all Sam had done for Dean and this god forsaken planet, the least Sam deserved was a shoulder to lean on when the weight of Sam's sacrifice got too heavy. However, Dean didn't want to push either.

Sam and Dean dealt with their feelings differently, but both of them had a tendency to react badly to being pushed when they weren't ready to acknowledge what was going on, so although it pained Dean to watch his brother struggle, he didn't approach him about it and hoped Sam would open up with time.

Dean could guess what the cause of Sam's pain was. Sam had been through a lot and there were about a thousand different things that anyone could understand Sam struggling from the memory off, however, whenever Sam was having a hard time, Lucifer being the cause was always a pretty good guess. Sam was strong and could move forward from a lot of crappy situations, but spending nearly two centuries being tortured by the devil was just something you couldn't move on from.

Dean understood more than most. He'd been to hell. He knew how that changed you. Haunted you. He understood how there wasn't usually a day that goes by where you don't think about it, but Sam's experience was different to Dean's. Yes, Dean understood hell, but he didn't know what Sam had gone through in the cage with  _that_ bastard. 

Whatever had happened was so bad that Sam's soul had been ruined. Sam had never really spoken about any specific details of his torture. He got snippets from Sam's flashbacks back when his wall broke. He'd hear small broken pieces of memories when Sam woke from particularly bad nightmares and incoherently mumbled about whatever he'd just relived. They'd never had an in depth discussion of anything that had happened during that time though. Dean told himself he didn't want to push Sam, but there was also a part of Dean didn't want to know all of the awful things he hadn't been able to protect his brother from. He'd still managed to be there for Sam though. He didn't need to know exactly what happened in order to carry Sam when it was hard for him to go on.

Dean also considered that Lucifer's death probably stirred up a lot for Sam and Dean hadn't been there to support Sam in the aftermath. He'd been possessed and that probably meant Sam hadn't had time to deal with it either. It really wasn't a surprise Sam was struggling. You can only run from things for so long before they catch you. Now, Dean just needed to catch Sam, too.

* * *

Castiel was concerned for his brothers. Cas had been by Sam's side during Dean's possession. He'd seen how Sam stopped taking care of himself in the pursuit of saving Dean. He'd tried to do what he knew Dean would want him too. Take care of Sam. Getting him to eat when he was pouring over lore or angel related incidents and forgot that he was a human who needed food. Convince him to sleep when didn't see it as important enough to give up the time he could use to find Dean. Reminding him to wash, drink enough water and to actually talk to other people instead of isolating himself. He hadn't been all that successful, the Winchester's were stubborn to a fault, but at least he'd managed to keep Sam going. Cas had seen Sam's turmoil. He missed his big brother, worried for him. He knew better than anyone what it was like to be possessed by an archangel. They both did. Sam had also been different since the church where the battle between Lucifer and Michael had gone down. Cas had once said that being troubled was a primary aspect of Sam's character which was true. It was inevitable really, with the life Sam had led, but once again, he'd seemed more troubled than he usually did. Castiel had tried to be shoulder to lean on. He offered Sam the chance to talk, but of course, Sam didn't take Cas up on it. Everyone considered Sam the more openly emotional brother. The one who liked to talk about feelings and whatever else Dean would class as a "chick flick moment". However it wasn't always strictly true. Sam was the brother who liked and encouraged talking about their problems...when it came to other people. Sam loved to encourage everyone else to talk about their problems but when it was himself that was struggling, he's was just as prone to bottling things up as Dean was.

Castiel figured that Sam would be okay once they got Dean back for real, and sure, Sam's spirits had improved since he'd been reunited with his brother, but there was still something there. Castiel was sure Dean had noticed it too because it was Sam after all. Except Dean was struggling too. Possession by an archangel was traumatic, but Dean, of course, refused to talk about it. So there was Sam, clearly haunted by something and refusing to talk about. Instead putting his own pain aside to worry about his big brother. Then there was Dean. The man had gone through something awful, but he also refused to talk about it and instead spent his energy worrying about Sam. Castiel was exasperated with his adopted family and felt like banging the brothers heads together to see if it knocked some sense into either of them.

Castiel could at least take comfort in the fact that he wasn't the only one who loved and looked out for the Winchester's anymore. Marywas back, their mother. Surely that had to make things easier for the brothers. They also had Jack. The boy was a close as you could get to a son for the brothers. Yes, they weren't alone. Cas just hoped that was enough.

* * *

It had actually been a really good night. Sam hadn't expected to have many of them anytime soon with everything, but Dean had made it happen. Mary was with them in the bunker and Dean had suggested a movie night with pizza. The brother's, Cas, Mary and Jack had all spent the night watching cheesy horror movies, stuffing their faces and laughing.

Things hadn't been easy recently, hell, things had never been easy, but Dean had been right and spending time doing something that normal families did was definitely what they all needed. It hadn't erased any of the worries, but it had helped them all have a moments reprieve from the stress.

Eventually, everyone had started to get tired and reluctantly put an end to the movie marathon in order to go to bed. Well, the humans were going to bed, Cas was probably going to spend the night binge watching netflix. Sam had gone to bed feeling okay. Things were far from perfect and his head wasn't in the best place, but he had his family. A family that had grown in recent years. He was grateful and as he finally fell asleep, he allowed himself to believe that things were going to get better.

* * *

_Sam was crumpled on the floor. What was left of the flesh on his body was burnt. Sam's shaky and broken hands were clutched helplessly to his stomach, an attempt at keeping the contents of his stomach where it should of been after Lucifer had amused himself by using his bare hands to rip apart Sam's gut. He hadn't bothered to heal him afterwards. Sam couldn't die in he cage, so Lucifer didn't have to worry about killing Sam with his torture. It also meant that Sam didn't have the pleasure of passing out when things got bad. No matter how barbaric Lucifer got, no matter how much blood he shed or how broken his body was, Sam stayed painfully aware. Sam didn't need to breath down here, but it didn't make the fact that Lucifer had broken each and every one of his ribs individually and forced them through Sam's lungs, any less painful. It didn't stop him from gasping for air as his lungs burned. Sam had no energy. He'd long since given up trying to hold himself up as he curled up on the floor, the cages ground, burning him, but he barely felt something so minor these days. In the beginning, Lucifer would often restrain Sam, either by chains that Lucifer drove through Sam's body, Suspending Sam upright, by being put on the rack or simply by Lucifer using his strength to restrain Sam physically. However, sometimes Lucifer found it fun to let Sam have a faux sense of freedom. He'd let Sam run and fight, just to make it that much sweeter when he eventually got Sam and tore him apart. Now though, Lucifer simply didn't bother restraining Sam because he didn't need to. Sam didn't fight anymore. He didn't run. He'd accepted his fate long ago. He just let Lucifer destroy him now._

_"You know, Sam, I'm not sure I like what you've turned into", started Lucifer, causing a flinch from Sam._

_"I mean, on the one hand, you might be my proudest work. Sam Winchester. The boy with the demon blood. The prophesied boy king of hell. My true vessel. You couldn't get anyone more stubborn than Sam Winchester, that's what they all said. Winchester's are supposed to be tough. Unbreakable. Defiant. I mean, you tore your own family apart with you stubborn defiance against your father growing up. Yet, look what I've reduced you too", sighed Lucifer, kicking Sam's already destroyed stomach, "You're a mess, Sam. The person you were before the cage? He's gone. I've destroyed him. Now, you're a broken, obedient little masterpiece. John Winchester wished he could have done what I have. I showed his rebellious son exactly where his place was"._

_Sam just stayed in the same spot. Clutching his own intestines and kidneys after Lucifer's brutal kick. Unresponsive. No response at all except the small shakes that wracked Sam's body. Shaking from the pain. Shaking from fear._

_"However", Lucifer continued, "On the other hand, it was more fun when you at least put up a fight, Sam, remember when you actually had dignity?"._

_Sam could feel Lucifer's presence getting closer to him as he got down on the floor near Sam._

_Sam froze in terror as Lucifer grabbed Sam by the shoulders. Expecting pain that didn't come. Instead, Lucifer sat with his legs in front of him and lay Sam across then, cradling Sam like Dean had so many times when he was hurt or dying. It was worse than the torture and Sam scrambled to turn away from him, to move away so he couldn't feel his touch anymore, but icy hands grasped at Sam's face, leaving an ice burn there. The grasp succeeded in making Sam still as he was held in place, face held so it looked up to the face that was looking down at his own. Lucifer maintained his grasp on Sam's face, but the venom he'd originally saw dissipated into something that almost resembled pity._

_"Oh, Sam. I really didn't want this you know?", Began Lucifer as worked his fingers through Sam's hair in something that masked itself as affection. It made Sam sick. "I wanted to give you everything. I understand you, more than Dean ever has. You know how I feel more than anyone. Your dad abandoned you too, I mean sure, he came back to you when it suited him, but even when he was there, he wasn't. The truth is, God, my father, he never loved me. And John never loved you. We were both feared by our father's for things that were out of our control. I know how alone you always felt, how different. How desperate you felt just to feel like you measured up to the rest of your family. You and Dean aren't so different from Michael and I. We were once close, well I thought we were. Truthfully, you can't really love someone you don't understand, that you don't know. Our older brother's tried to protect us at first. They made us their entire world and they believe they love us, but they don't. Dean doesn't love you, Sam. You took away his childhood. He gave up his innocence for you and what did he get in return? You running off to Stanford. You choosing a demon over him. You drinking demon blood. You were always what went wrong in his life"._

_Lucifer's face and tone were sympathetic, but there was venom injected into his words. Sam clenched his jaw and closed his eye's as tears fell from his face._

_"Aww, Sammy, don't think I'm criticizing you. I understand. It wasn't your fault really. We both let our brother's down, but the odds were stacked against us. The standards Dean held you to were impossible to live up to. Still, it doesn't change the fact that underneath all of the codependency and self sacrificing bull, Dean hates you. He wouldn't ever be able to admit it, even to himself, but the moment you jumped into here with me was a relief for Dean. No more having to fix the mess that screwed up Sammy made. No more obligation. He's finally free of you. He tells himself he loves you, misses you, but deep down, he doesn't even care that you're being tortured down here. Thinks it's the least you deserve", shrugged Lucifer._

_More tears fell. Sam just wanted it to stop. All of it. He wanted this nightmare to end. He wanted to feel something other than pain for once. He wanted to die, but he already had and this was his eternity. He wanted Dean. God, he wanted his big brother. But Lucifer was right, Dean was better off without him. Sam did nothing, but disappoint and hurt him. Lucifer was right, Dean was finally free from the shackle that was Sam. Yet, Sam would never be free again. Chokes began to build up in Sam's throat as sobs overtook him. He was fully sobbing now, no sense of pride or holding back because he was being held by Lucifer. It was like a dam had broken. Sam's sobs got louder and more desperate and Lucifer gently stroked Sam's face and cradled Sam's head to his chest as Sam cried. And Sam let him._

_He hated Lucifer, but in that moment. He didn't care. He was so scared and tired and god damn heart broken. It felt like his heart was being torn apart. He should know, Lucifer had done that. He was so desperate and alone that he didn't even fight off Lucifer's hold and gentle reassurances. As Lucifer cradled a sobbing Sam, a cruel smirk ran across his face. Sam was his now. He'd truly broken the man._

_Eventually, Sam's sobs grew quieter and his body stiller, still held by Lucifer's arms. Sam's eyes vacantly store above him._

_"I told you I understand you, Sam. You could have been happy thanks to me. But you trapped me down here. You betrayed me. I can't just let that go. You need to be punished. You deserve to be punished, but I think you know that, don't you, Sam?"_

_Sam closed his eyes again and nodded._

_"You think so far this place has been bad, but I haven't even really started yet. Things are about to get so much worse for you, but don't think I enjoy this. It's just what I have to do", sighed Lucifer. It was an obvious lie. Lucifer could barely contain his glee at Sam's pathetic state. He couldn't hide his amusement when he made Sam endure whatever new torture Lucifer had thought up that day. He did enjoy it. The old Sam would have pointed that out. Spat it at Lucifer, but this Sam just lay there silently, accepting Lucifer's words._

_"Time to move, Sam". Lucifer flicked his hand and Sam's previous injuries were healed. He looked whole again, but Sam was still in pieces._

_Sam's body careened upwards as thick chains punctured his skin and shot through his body. Sam's head hung limply and Lucifer grabbed his hair, forcing him to look at him._

_"Time to start again, Sammy...Now, I was teaching you lessons before. You weren't very receptive of them initially, but I think you're more open now. I'm about to hurt you in ways you can't even imagine. And what do you say to me for that?"_

_Sam paused as recognition and shame clouded his face, but eventually he spoke._

_"Th..thank you"._

_Lucifer smiled cruelly, then he began and he'd been right. Lucifer had so far shown Sam nothing of what he was capable of in terms of torture. Sam's pain filled screams echoed through cage._


	2. Chapter 2

Dean had told his family that he too, was heading to bed when everyone else was. He was wide awake, but he knew Sam would only hover and worry if he thought he wasn't sleeping enough. He'd gone to his room for a while until he was sure the coast was clear and then found his way to kitchen, getting himself a beer in the process. A few beers down the line and Dean poured himself a whiskey instead.

Castiel entered the kitchen, unsurprised to see Dean still awake.

"I may not be an expert on human norms, but I'm pretty sure sleeping doesn't involve sitting up drinking all night", scolded Cas, but there was no heat to his words.

"How was Sam?", asked Dean flatly.

"He was fine, you saw him yourself. He was with us all day", answered Cas, obviously confused.

"I don't mean now, I mean when I was...when I was gone. How was he?"

"I'm sure you can probably guess. He was hyper focused on saving you. Everything else took a back seat. He was...troubled. Understandably. You were gone", admitted Cas, "although, I wonder if there was something else too. I expected him to go back to normal once you were back and he is much happier with you present, but he still seems..."

"Troubled?", offered Dean with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes. Maybe it's with Michael still being out there and major risk".

"I don't think it's that", shrugged Dean.

"And what about you, Dean? How are you? You've been through a terrible experience. You can talk to me, Dean".

Dean stood, going to collect more alcohol and figuring out the best way to avoid this question when Sam's screams echoed through the bunker.

Cas stood at once, startled and ready to fight any threat.

"It's okay, Cas. I don't think there's a threat...it's probably a nightmare", sighed Dean wearily before turning towards his brothers room. Cas debated internally whether to follow, finally deciding to follow just in case he could help at all.

On the way through the corridor, they ran into Mary and Jack. Mary was wrapped in a fluffy dressing gown, hair ruffled and with a gun in her hand. The juxtaposition of the image almost made Dean laugh, but concern won over. Jack trailed behind Mary, blurry eyed and scared. Dean wanted to tell them to go back to their rooms. Dean could deal with this. Sam would be embarrassed if Mary and Jack were there, but he knew they wouldn't be happy till they saw that Sam was safe for themselves so he simply continued to Sam's room.

As he expected Sam was alone, but his face was scrunched up tightly, his fists gripping the bed sheets as he screamed as though he was in agony.

"Oh my God, Sam...", rushed Mary as she began to run to her son. Dean held out a hand to stop her.

"Dean...", said Mary incredulously, obviously panicked, "Sam, he's, he's in pain. He's in agony. Somethings wrong! We should get him to the hospital or something...what if it's his appendix or, or something serious like an aneurysm or tumour".

"It's a nightmare mom"

Mary looked to Cas and Jack who stood in the doorway, Cas wearing a knowing and sad look, and Jack looking concerned and confused.

"I don't...that's not just some nightmare. He looks like he's in agony"

"I know, but trust me. I know Sam. He's okay, but if we wake Sam up and we're all here, he's going to feel embarrassed and overwhelmed. I know you wanna help, but I need you guys to leave and let me help Sam".

As Dean talked, Sam's screams began to fade,a relief to Dean as he could barely stand the sound. However, Sam began to cry. Silently, but Dean didn't miss the tears.

"Sam...", whispered Mary. She felt helpless and desperate. She didn't know why Dean seemed unsurprised, but this was no normal nightmare and Sam was suffering and she just wanted to know how to fix it.

Sam began to say something completely illegible to Mary, but his voice was still filled with so much torment. She saw Dean close his eyes and sigh.

"Cas...is that?", began Dean.

"Enochian", nodded Cas. He said it quietly, only to Dean, but Mary and Jack had both heard. Dean noticed Cas' facial expression as Sam spoke enochian. Cas being an angel, he could obviously understand enochian and whatever it was that Sam was saying and it was obvious it pained Cas.

Mary and Jack's mind were reeling about how or why Sam was speaking enochian. Mary thought back to when Dean had tried to snap her out of the dream world in her head. He'd said Sam had been possessed by Lucifer. Maybe that explained it. Maybe it explained his nightmare too. She knew being possessed by an archangel had affected Dean more than he was willing to admit. Maybe that's what tormented Sam too.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry...please, please stop. I'm sorry", whimpered Sam quietly now, tears still falling.

That was the final straw for Mary and her heart snapped into two. When Mary had died, Sam was a baby. When she'd came back he was a grown man who was tough and strong. He had a huge heart, but he was definitely not someone to mess with. In that moment, Sam sounded so fragile and scared. She wanted to fix whatever was going on, but she had no idea how. Mary left the room quickly.

"Cas...", began Dean.

"Yes, I'll go to her. Jack, come help me find Mary", nodded Cas. Jack had been pretty quiet up until that point. Standing in the back looking a little lost. Jack seemed to shake it off and followed Cas out the room. Dean was finally alone and able to do what he'd been itching to do since Sam had began screaming. Wake him up from this God forsaken dream.

"Hey, Sammy, wake up man", ordered Dean gently. Sam stirred, but didn't wake, so Dean edged closer, carefully placing a hand on his brothers shoulder.

Sam's eyes shot open, wide and searching. He quickly lifted himself against the head board and looked around urgently. Dean could see the moment it all clicked. When Sam realised he was home and it was just a nightmare. Relief washed over his face, but so did tiredness and something that looked like shame. Sam ran his hand over his face.

"How bad was it?", asked Dean tentatively.

"It depends how you rate it. It wasn't a memory of the very worst he did to me. If you go by pain and actual physical torture, then maybe 4/10, but it was a bad day psychologically. It just felt so real and....now", admitted Sam. Giving up the information slightly more willingly than Dean had expected.

"It's okay, you're awake now. You're home", _You're safe. He isn't here. That's over now . You're not alone, Sammy._

"Yeah", nodded Sam, not entirely convincingly.

"Dude, you're home. You're okay".

Sam now nodded slightly more meaningfully.

"Oh God, please don't tell me I was shouting"

Sam could tell by Dean's face that he had.

"You were screaming and then, you said something in enochian and you were saying sorry. And asking for someone to stop".

"But only you heard?" Asked Sam hopefully.

"Sam...", began Dean tactfully.

"So that's a 'no' then".

Sam put his head in his hands.

"Sam, it's okay. It was just Cas, mom and Jack. They're family. They love you".

"Yeah, but they probably think I'm crazy now".

"Well you are crazy, but that has nothing to do with your nightmare", joked Dean, lightly trying to ease Sam's stress.

"Funny", smirked Sam.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not really", dismissed Sam.

"C'mon man, you're struggling with stuff. I can tell and now you have this nightmare...You need to talk about it."

"You really want to go there, Dean? I'm not the only one who's not talking about what's going on with them".

"This isn't about me"

"Do we really need to go through this?", asked Sam exasperated.

"I know it's not easy to talk about these kind of things, but sometimes we need too"

"I'll make you a deal, I'll talk if you do too", suggested Sam.

"Fine", agreed Dean, albeit reluctantly.

"So, the dream?"

"It was just, it was the memory of when I first, really...broke"

"Broke?"

Sam looked to his hands, shame evident in his face.

"Sam it's me, you know you can talk to me about whatever. You don't have to be embarrassed in front of me. You survived nearly 200 years being tortured by the devil. The fact that you even get out of bed every morning is freaking bad ass, Sammy. Nothing you tell me about what happened there will make me see you any differently.

Sam searched Dean's face and found his words to be the truth. Sam was so ashamed and he'd always dreaded the idea of Dean knowing just what he'd been reduced to down in the cage. Now Sam saw that was purely his own insecurities. Dean would never see Sam the way Sam saw himself.

"When I first fell, I was, well, me. I was a smart mouth, stubborn...a Winchester. Lucifer tried so hard to break my spirit and for a while, I didn't let him. But, as time went on, I got weaker and... I was, god, I was pathetic Dean. I was just this broken mess of a person. I stopped fighting. I just let him do whatever", Sam's voice broke as he told Dean, eye's reddening. Dean felt his heart constrict. Sam had never gone this much into detail before. Dean felt sick.

"The dream, well, it was a memory of a particular day. I remember, lying on the floor...the ground burnt, but I barely even recognized the pain. It was nothing compared to... you know. I was injured, he still hadn't erased the injuries from the previous round. I was crumpled on the floor. Lucifer started talking, the usual mind games. He really liked the sound of his own voice and he loved to feed me back all the insecurities he knew I had".

"Like what?" asked Dean, but he already knew.

"Us. Dad. Jess, everyone I hurt. Everyone I didn't save. The mistakes I made. How 'unclean' I was. But mostly about us. How you hated me and were better off with me gone. The usual stuff. He also loved to remind me how weak and broken I'd become. He said that dad would love what he'd done to me. Said that he managed to do what dad always wanted to. Make me obedient"

"Sam...You have to know that's not true. At all".

"It doesn't matter", dismissed Sam, "it wasn't anything he hadn't already said a million times. But he didn't like that I wasn't reacting. He got down on the floor by me. He grabbed my shoulders and I expected the usual. I waited for pain, but he just hauled me over to him. Held me in his arms, practically cradled me. Kind like of you did when I was a kid and sick. That was worse than the pain. Having him...stroke my hair, pretend that he gave a damn about me. I tried to get out of his arms, but he held my face and I couldn't move. Then he started this whole spiel about how we were the same. That he was the only one who really understood me. That we both had fathers that hated us, feared us. How we were both let downs as brothers. Mistakes. He told me that you were better off now I was gone and that I could never live up to what you wanted me to be. He said he understood and that we could have been happy. I don't know what it was about that day, because out of all the days I had there, it wasn't the most horrific or painful or humiliating. It was more of the same, but lying there in his...his freaking arms, talking about you. I just broke. It all hit me in that moment, what was happening to me. That I would spend an eternity in there with him. That I'd never see you again. I just broke. And he...he held me", tears started to make an appearance as Sam recalled the memory to Dean. Dean gently squeezed Sam's shoulder, it wasn't enough in light of everything Dean was learning, but he needed to do something to remind Sam that was there for him. Sam wiped a hand over his face and then continued, "I couldn't have moved if I wanted to, but I didn't even try. I was so pathetic and weak and desperate for some comfort or human interaction that I just lay there as he held me and told me that he was all I had now. I just stayed like that for so long until I eventually stopped crying. And after that, it was like I was gone completely. There wasn't even a tiny bit of the old me left. He told me that everything would get worse from there, the torture. He said he hadn't even got started yet. He had me agreeing when he told me it wasn't anything I didn't deserve. I practically gave him the green light to torture me. God, he had me thanking him...thanking him for doing what he d...did".

By the end Sam had descended into panic, his breath hitched and he choked on his own words.

Dean's heart was breaking. He knew this was only a tiny portion of what Sam went through in the cage, but it was more than Sam had admitted before. It broke Dean's heart more than anything ever had before. The image of Sam, injured so badly, so terrified and that monster, thinking he had the right to touch Sammy. To hold him, tainting the memory of any good moment he was comforted in a similar situation. He could imagine Sam, crying in the devil's arms, hating himself so much that he resigned himself to Lucifer's barbaric torture methods. He saw Sam, hurt, alone and terrified, with no hope. That went on for nearly two centuries. Dean could also imagine Lucifer. That son of a bitch. Breaking Sam down so he could be the person to put him back together and finally get Sam to be the traumatised, devastated man he became. He'd never hated Lucifer more and he didn't think it was possible to hate him more than he already did. He wished more than anything he could kill him 50 times over again.

Dean had to put out the fire that burned inside of him that wanted Lucifer's blood, because Sam was there in front of him. Scared and in pain and so full of shame. He was panicking and Sam needed Dean.

Dean sat next to Sam and went to put his arm around his younger brother.

"No, no, don't...", muttered Sam as he backed away from Dean. It only took Dean a few seconds to understand why he'd had that reaction. It wasn't because he didn't want comfort from Dean, but with the story he'd just told Dean and the shame radiating from him, Dean realised that the kid didn't think he deserved it.

"Hey, look at me. You are not weak, Sam. You are not pathetic. You are the furthest away from that as possible. You survived. It doesn't matter how you survived, you did. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Lucifer manipulated and abused you. He's the devil, Sam. What you went through, it wasn't your fault and you definitely didn't deserve it. Now come here, and let me hug you, Sammy", insisted Dean desperately.

The entire time Sam was talking, he didn't look at Dean. He focused on his hands like they were the most interesting thing in the world. It was only now at hearing Dean's words that he hesitantly looked at his big brother. Searching his face for judgement and disappointment that he couldn't find. Instead, Dean was looking at with understanding and empathy. He held out his arm and Sam finally sunk into him. Sam cried. He tried to hold it in, but he couldn't because Dean was holding up him, muttering reassurances to Sam. He was holding him and he didn't turn away from Sam. Didn't seem disgusted or like he thought Sam was weak. It wasn't that Sam thought so little of Dean that he believed Dean would judge him. It was just hard for Sam to believe that anyone could see Sam differently than he saw himself.

After a while, Sam sat up and wiped a hand across his face.

"Sammy, we're not done talking. I'm relieved that you told me about the nightmare and you were honest, but it's just the start. Something caused such a vivid dream. Something triggered what you're struggling with and we're going to talk about that, but I think maybe you need a break before the conversation continues", suggested Dean.

"Yeah, but before that, it's your turn, Dean. Talk to me. About Michael", asked Sam carefully.

"I know I said I'd talk if you did, but...I don't think I can, Sammy. Not about this and especially not to you".

Sam looked hurt and Dean realised how it sounded.

"I didn't mean it like that. It's just...I was possessed. It's the first time that's happened to me and I never understood before. I thought I did. I thought I understood why you had such a hang up over it. I thought I understood what you and Cas went through, but I didn't. And now...Now I know what I did to you", admitted Dean, "That's why I can't talk to you about it, Sam. I can't talk to you about how hard it was. How violating and lonely and desperate it felt. How it felt like I was drowning. I can't talk to you about that because then I'd have to think about the fact that I forced that upon you with Gadreel".

"Dean, I forgave you for Gadreel a long time ago".

"I know you did, I, I forgave myself after. I thought I knew why you were so mad and I thought I was sorry and that it was okay to forgive myself, but truthfully, I never really understood it. I got that you were upset, but I figured that Gadreel had been a horrible, but necessary thing to do. I thought it was worth it as long as you were okay. What I didn't realise was that you weren't okay. You were alive, but what I put you through...I was selfish. I couldn't deal with losing you, so I put you through that".

"Dean, it's okay"

"No, it isn't, Sam", argued Dean, "when I got back from Purgatory and found out you didn't look for me, I was so angry. I thought you were selfish and I thought I was some kind of martyr for doing whatever it took to keep you alive, but now I realise that's not true. You didn't look for me. And I know how difficult that must of been. At first I thought it was because you didn't care enough, but I see it now. It goes against every instinct we have, but I'd asked you too. You thought you were honouring my wishes. That I was in heaven, at peace. You were completely alone in the world, having only just come out of that hospital with Lucifer running the show. You must have been so alone, but you let me go and I think maybe you did that for me more than you did it for you. You made the hard choice. And me, doing what I did, that wasn't me putting you first. If I'd have truly been selfless, done what was best for you, I would have let you go. Let you finally get some peace in heaven with Bobby and everyone else. Instead I did the absolute worse thing I possibly could to you. I felt like you were being unreasonable when you were so distant and angry with me after Gadreel, but I never understood. Michael...finally understanding how awful possession is made me realise what I did to you and that's why I can't talk to you about how horrible I had it. I feel like I don't have the right to complain about it. Maybe I deserved it. Penance for Gadreel".

"Dean, no one deserves being possessed by an archangel. I was angry after, but I was more hurt. It just came out as anger, but I know that you didn't understand. If you'd have done what you did knowing what you know now, it would have been different. I understand that you were trying to save me and although you knew that it was wrong, you didn't really understand why it was one of my worst nightmares".

"I would never do that, not again, not knowing how it feels. I'm just sorry that it took this for me to realise".

"You have no idea how much it means, Dean. For you to be sorry, really sorry. I wish more than anything that you didn't need to experience it for you to understand, but it means a lot", smiled Sam sadly, "I get why you didn't want to talk about it to me now, but I want you to Dean. Cas and I are two of the few people who understand what you've been through. Let us in. Let us help. Talk to us".

"I guess, I feel guilty. I said 'yes'. I let him in and he hurt people. That's on me", admitted Dean.

"At that point, Lucifer was a bigger threat. You did what you had to. You are not responsible for Michael's actions. Michael is responsible for Michael's actions".

"You and I both know that it's not that simple", argued Dean, "When I was possessed, it felt like I was drowning. Like someone kept pushing my head below water and I kept trying to come up for air, but he just held my head down harder. I thought that once he let me go, I'd be able to breath again, but I still feel like I'm drowning".

"Well, let me be your life raft. As cheesy as it sounds, let me help you break the water. I know I can't fix things for you, but anything is easier when you don't have to do it alone. You don't have to do alone, Dean. Don't stop here, keep letting me in".

"I know...I will if you will", promised Dean.

"Deal".

"Now, we'll continue our hallmark moment later, but we're both kind of spent emotionally. What do you say, we carry on talking later and go join mom and the others?" Suggested Dean.

"Sounds good, but I want a shower. You head on out and I'll come to you afterwards".

"Okay, but what should I say to mom or Jack for that matter? They're going to have questions", asked Dean.

"Mom already knows about hell right? You can tell her the truth...Maybe a vague version of the truth though and if you can avoid saying anything to Jack? I'll have to talk to them later, but I just need a minute", admitted Sam.

"Sure, Sammy and thank you, for telling me and for listening", smiled Dean.

"Ditto", grinned Sam.

"you go shower, you need it...just not too hot, okay?"

Sam looked bewildered at Dean, but let a smile spread across his face. Of course Dean had noticed or guessed that being cold was an issue for Sam after the cage. He knew Lucifer burned cold and coming to think of it, in the past when vivid flashbacks and dreams had been haunting Sam, Dean had been there with blankets and hot drinks. Of course Dean noticed.

Sam was still shaky from the nightmare and his heart felt heavy from their conversation, but Sam felt a little bit of hope. With Dean, he could get through it.


	3. Chapter 3

As Dean walked away from his baby brother, he fought hard against the swirling tornado of emotions that surged through his brain. Dean couldn't get the image that Sam's admission had left, out of his head. It came in flashes with every blink of his eyelids, intrusive and unwelcome. Sam with his broken and bloody body. Lucifer taunting him, manipulating him, holding him together in the way Dean should have and the devil should never have done. Sam's broken cries. It assaulted his sense and now Dean couldn't stop thinking. He tried to put a cap on his thoughts, stop them in action, but it wasn't working because it was Sam. His baby brother and he was hurt and scared and sad and alone. So very alone. He'd spent years trying to train his mind not to imagine any of the crap Lucifer did to Sam, had been pretty successful 70% of the time, but now it wasn’t working and they wouldn't stop. Dean had some pretty vivid and imaginative ideas of what Lucifer did to Sam from his own time in hell, but Dean knew that, despite how skilled Alistair was in torture, Lucifer would have been so much worse. His brain tried to imagine how anyone could be worse than Alistair and the thought of that just about brought him to his knees because Alistair had broken him completely. He was sick and twisted and he didn't want to imagine Alistair's torture for Sam and the consideration that Lucifer was more even more skilled in causing misery made Dean want to curl up and die for not stopping it from happening to his baby brother. Dean's throat was dry and itchy, his eye's felt prickly and his chest hallow. He wanted to erase the memory of Sam having been to hell from his head permanently. Never wanted to be burdened with the knowledge that Sam was hurt in the worst ways possible by the worst person possible, but equally Dean wanted to know more. To learn every detail of Sam's torture, because hearing about it, having to imagine his brother going through it was akin to torture to Dean and Dean felt like it was his penance for ever allowing Sammy to jump in that damn cage.

Dean was spiraling and he knew it. Weighed down by the knowledge of his baby brother's suffering and that Sam was still suffering now. His breath hitched and his jaw clenched, Adams apple quivering as Dean fought to control the ache in his chest. Dean's feeble hold on his emotions were loosening by the minute and he knew they'd blow soon if he didn't snap out of it. He wondered how his emotions would break free. In anger, fists flying, furniture breaking, spitting venomous words at people who didn't deserve it or in tears and panic, sobbing out everything he'd been holding in for so long. But Dean knew neither of those two options were acceptable for him. He needed to put one foot forward. He didn't need to make Sam's trauma about himself and have Sam show no concern for himself and all of it for Dean. He was doing that well enough already on his own. He knew he needed to get a hold of himself. Sam needed him and his family wanted answers. Answers he knew would send him off the deep end in his current state. Dean pushed his palm against the wall in the hallway, leaning his weight against it, afraid he'd so easily fall to the ground without it. Dean breathed deeply, allowing himself to feel his emotions without, hopefully, falling apart from them. He breathed deeply and evenly, practising the kind of hippy dippy shrink claptrap he knew Sam enthused about. Meditation or mindfulness or some crap like that. Dean made a quick mental note to stop teasing Sam for his wellness tips, his running, the obsessive nature Sam had surrounding food and eating well or whatever else seemed like a waste of time to Dean, but that Sam used as a coping mechanism. Damn, Dean would light incense, start a crystal collection and braid Sam's hair whilst singing John Lennon if it brought Sam even an ounce of peace. And maybe there was something to it, as Dean managed to get his breathing slightly more under control. Allowing just a few more moments to collect himself, Dean pushed the pain and guilt down. He pushed his shoulders back, standing straight before continuing down the hallway. He had his family to talk to.

Back to the usual stoic Winchester attitude, Dean trudged through the bunker, mentally preparing himself for having to face their mom. And Jack. Sam had given him the green light to be semi honest with Mary, but it didn't make it easier. Whilst Dean's head was still replaying his conversation with Sam, he debated what to say to Mary. He couldn't tell their mom specific details of what Sam had been through because it wasn't his place, but part of Dean wanted to share the burden of knowing what Sam had been through. He wanted someone else's heart to break like his was. He knew that was selfish, but he didn't care. Dean wished for a lot of things. Dean wished he could make Sam see himself the way he did. He wanted to take away Sam's self loathing and pain. Lucifer had tortured Sam. Physically and Psychologically. Sam had been alone and scared and devastated. Lucifer had hugged him, pretending to care and Sam was so hurt and so needed some comfort and human interaction that he'd stopped fighting, just for a moment. And Sam hated himself for it. Hated himself for something that was completely expected. Sam had been isolated in the cage for centuries with only archangels for company and it was completely natural for Sam to seek out a tiny bit of comfort wherever he could. It was a normal reaction to a very not normal situation. Sam hadn't really had a choice when Lucifer had "comforted" him, but Sam hated himself anyway and Dean hated Lucifer. Dean wished he could make Sam okay again. Dean wished for a lot, but when had the Winchester's wishes ever meant a damn thing?

He felt anger, the type he hadn't felt since the Mark, fill his chest. He was angry wifh Lucifer and at Chuck. He was angry that this could happen to Sam. Sam didn't deserve the cage and he didn't deserve to still be suffering from it now. But Dean pushed the anger down. It wouldn't help Sam and he needed to be calm to talk to the rest of his family.

As Dean walked into the kitchen, he found who he was looking for. Sitting at the table was Mary with a drink in her hand and Cas sitting by her with a hand on her shoulder. Jack was sitting across from them, sitting on his hands. All of them looking up at Dean's arrival.

"How's Sam?", asked Mary.

"Better. He's having a shower and then he'll be out. Can I talk to you, privately?", asked Dean.

"Come on, Jack. Let's go for a walk", beckoned Cas, leaving Dean and Mary alone.

With them gone, Dean sat across from his mom. The pair sat in silence for a moment. Probably feeling as awkward as eachother. Both hoping for the other to break the silence, but eventually it was Dean who took the plunge.

"I'm guessing you have some questions".

"I'm just, worried about Sam. Was it something to do with what you said about Sam being possessed by Lucifer?"

"Yes and no. Remember what I said to you about Sam being tortured in hell?"

Mary's face dropped and she lowered her head into her hands. How could she have been so clueless not to guess that horrific nightmares would be as a result of being tortured. She heard everything Dean had said back when Mary was stuck in her own head, but she hadn't asked anything further. She'd been too afraid.

"Of course", sighed Mary, "so these nightmares are a regular thing for Sam?".

"Well he's always had nightmares, but sometimes they can be worse than others. Like if he's struggling or something triggers a memory".

"What's he been struggling with?" wondered Mary.

"We haven't actually got round to talking about that yet, but I can guess".

Mary looked at Dean expectantly, willing him to continue.

"When Sam was in hell, it wasn't just regular hell".

"What does that mean?" questioned Mary, but she was terrified of the answer.

"Sam saved the world, he stopped Lucifer from causing the apocalypse, but in doing so he had to sacrifice himself. Saving the world meant throwing himself in hell with Lucifer. So he wasn't just tortured. He was tortured by the devil himself", admitted Dean.

Mary closed her eyes as tears began to fall. Dean held onto her hand. She felt a physical pain erupt in her chest. She remembered how she'd seen Sam back when Toni Bevell had tortured him. She'd only really just met Sam, but her heart had shattered. But to be tortured by the devil himself in hell...it would have been so much worse and Mary tried not to think of how Sam might have looked in hell. She felt even more guilty then she already had for working with the British Men of Letters. At the time, she'd told herself that it was necessary and that Toni had gone rogue and it wasn't the fault of the organisation as a whole, but there was still always a little guilt niggling away at her. Now though, that guilt was tenfold. Having been through what Sam had, then having someone do that to you, must have brought up a whole lot of stuff for Sam. It must have been retraumatising. He must have felt so alone and then for Mary to work with the people who did that to him... Mary hated herself right then and she resolved to make it up to Sam, and to Dean, by being the best mother she could from then on. Mary didn't think she'd ever be able to fully grasp the gravity of the situation. Never be able to truly understand what Sam went through, but she knew he would have suffered unimaginable pain.

"How long was he down there?" Asked Mary quietly.

"Around 18 months, but time works differently in hell, so a month is 10 years".

"He was trapped with Lucifer for nearly 200 years?!"

"Yeah and as you can imagine, it wasn't fun. What happened with Sam tonight is that he had a nightmare about some stuff that happened in the cage. A memory really. That's what was happening, why he was so...distressed".

"Poor Sam. I wished I'd have been there for him... for you both. I can only imagine what it must have been like for you, having to carry on knowing what was happening to Sam".

"You're here now, that's the main thing", reassured Dean, ignoring the memories of those months without Sam, "Sam needs,  _deserves_ , as much love as he can get.  I've always done my best to be there for him, to look after him, but having his mom around when he's struggling with this is definitely what he needs", reassured Dean.

"Well, I can definitely give him that", promised Mary through a watery smile, "does Jack know?"

"I'm not sure how much Jack know's. Sam mentioned that when Lucifer had both Sam and Jack back at that church, Lucifer alluded to what he did to Sam, but none of us have exactly sat down with him and told him. I mean, the kid loves Sam and to find out that his biological father hurt,  _tortured_ , someone he loves.  To find out just how evil the person he came from was..."

"It could crush him", nodded Mary in understanding.

"It's funny, when Jack first got here, I hated him. I was grieving for you and for Cas and I misplaced my anger onto him. But more than that, everytime I looked at him, I saw Lucifer. I was reminded of just how spectacularly I failed Sam. I resented him, but now I look at him and I don't see Lucifer. I see Sam and I see Cas. I see a kid who wouldn't dream of hurting someone. Now, I'm kind of scared of him seeing himself the way I saw him when he first got here", admitted Dean.

"I get it, but things as big as this, they don't stay buried for long. Whether it's through Sam's awful nightmares or some demon on a hunt provoking Sam, Jack will find out. Isn't it better coming from us?"

"It's not up to me anyway. It's up to Sam. It happened to him, it's his place to decide what and who he wants to know. So much in his life has been done to him. Put on him. There are so many awful things that Sam had no control over in his life, so I can at least give him this, but for the record, Sam said he'd speak to him later so...", shrugged Dean.

Mary grabbed Dean's hand once again.

"Thank you, Dean".

"What for?"

"For Sam. I hate myself. For the decisions I made which led you and Sam down this awful path. I hate myself for not being there. I come back and every single new detail I seem to find out about you boys is another unmentionable horror. I hate that you boys had to deal with it alone, but the one thing that makes it a little bit better is knowing that you had each other. So, thank you for looking after Sammy. You shouldn't have had to. It wasn't you're place, but you did and you did a good job, Dean. Thank you for looking after our boy", sniffed Mary.

Dean looked at Mary, clearly taken aback, red eye's wide, before looking back to the table.

"Yeah, look how good of a job I did", huffed Dean, "his girlfriend was murdered, he died, I died, leaving him alone. Then there was demon blood. Manipulated by demons and angels. Possessed by Satan and tortured by him for hundreds of years. He lost his soul, and when he got it back it was so damaged by all of the torture that it almost killed Sam. Then he nearly died again trying close hell and when that nearly killed him, I forcefully shoved an angel down his throat without his consent. That angel killed our friend using Sam's body. I became a demon, nearly killed Sam in his own home. He was tortured again by those British bastards. He died again in that other universe and now...now, he's falling apart because he's never had time to process any of that crap and I don't know what to do or how to help", choked Dean.

In Dean's little tirade he'd revealed more to Mary than he'd ever meant to. A heavy sinking feeling settled in his gut as he realised he'd revealed the truth about Gadreel. Mary was still holding Dean's hand and he didn't understand why after that.

"So yeah, I did that", confessed Dean.

"Dean, it's okay".

"No, no it is not. Don't you understand how much of betrayal that was?", demanded Dean.

"Dean, it was wrong. I know that, but I also know how much you care about your brother. I know you would never mean to hurt him. You were trying to save him and sure, you went about it the wrong way, but if anyone understands that, it's me. Look what I did for John. Plus, you and Sam are good, so he obviously forgives you, so you can too. You may think you failed at protecting Sam because of all he's been through, but you did everything you could. Some things we can't control, but the fact that Sam is still here, still a functioning human being despite everything he's been through, well that tells me that you've done a pretty damn good job of looking after him", reassured Mary.

Dean smiled, pleased that Mary was here. It made the difference in times like this.

Dean's attention was turned by Cas walking into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm not sure what Sam would like me to tell Jack. He won't let this drop, he's concerned", said Cas.

"Sam said he wanted to be the one to talk to Jack after he's done with the shower", shrugged Dean.

"How is Sam?" Asked Cas.

"Sam is fine", interrupted Sam has he walked through to the kitchen. His hair hung damply around his face. Sam still looked tired and stressed, but marginally better after a shower.

Mary shot up and flung her arms around Sam, who appeared a little surprised at first, but then sunk into her.

"I love you", whispered Mary as she held Sam's face in her hands.

"I love you too, mom", smiled Sam.

"I don't know if you're ready yet, but Jack's asking a lot of questions", began Dean.

"I'll go talk to him", nodded Sam, yet he looked like he wanted to do anything but.

"Sam, we could talk to Jack if you're not feeling up to it", offered Cas.

"Thanks, Cas, but it should be me".

* * *

Sam walked to Jack's bedroom and took a deep breath before knocking.

"Come in".

Sam opened the door and Jack's face lit up when he saw it was Sam, but his face quickly dropped.

"Hey, Jack, can we talk?"

"Yeah, I was worried about you".

"I'm okay, but I think I should probably explain things a little. You're family and you live here, it might not be the last time things like that happen", began Sam.

"What did happen?", asked Jack carefully.

"Something bad happened to me, a few years ago. Sometimes...sometimes I still struggle with it, with the memories".

"So, your nightmare, that was about what happened to you?" Asked Jack.

"Yeah".

"How come you never mentioned anything before, not that you have to, I just mean...is there a reason you didn't want to tell me?" Stuttered Jack.

"I guess I don't really like to talk about it, but it's not because I can't or don't want to talk to you. It's just a complicated situation".

"Does it have something to do with...with Lucifer?" wondered Jack cautiously.

"What, what makes you say that?", questioned Sam, surprised.

"I don't know, just little bits of things that I've heard. From Dean and Cas. From you. I noticed from the start that no one around here was exactly a fan of Lucifer and at first I thought it was just because he's Lucifer, but then I kind of felt like there was more to it. Then, at the church when Lucifer was hurting you, I heard some things and when Dean got back and discovered you wanted to give Nick a chance and he said that 'you of all people should want shot of Nick after what Lucifer did'. Sometimes, it feels like people are careful what they say around me, but you don't need to be.If Lucifer did something, you can say", promised Jack.

"It's just, Lucifer may be Lucifer, but he's still your biological father...I don't want to make you feel badly, Jack", admitted Sam.

"I may share DNA with Lucifer, but he was nothing to me. You are my family. You, Dean, Cas and Mary...that's family. Whatever he did is obviously causing you pain, Sam and I need to know what happened...Maybe I could help you".

"That's sweet, Jack, but this isn't something anyone can help me with".

"Maybe so, but I still need to know".

"Okay", sighed Sam, "Back when Lucifer first got to Earth, he was trying to end the world. He and this world's Michael were set on destroying everything. Dean, Cas and I were trying to stop them and we found a way, but it came with a sacrifice. I could lock Lucifer away in hell, but to do so I would have to give my consent to him possessing me, gain back control and then jump into the cage, dragging Lucifer down with me. By some miracle I succeeded, but that meant me being locked in hell with Lucifer and Michael. I was there for a while, hundreds of years in hell time and let's just say, Lucifer wasn't exactly happy that I'd put him away".

"He hurt you", stated Jack, his face full of sadness.

"Yeah, you could say that", Sam huffed a bitter laugh before continuing, "I was tortured by Lucifer for a long time. He...he broke me. The torture damaged my soul so significantly that putting it back in my body when I got out of hell nearly killed me. It caused seizures, hallucinations, delusions, insomnia to the point that my body began to break down. I would have died if Cas hadn't of taken the damage and transfered it to himself. He couldn't take away the memories or even fix my soul properly, but he took away the hallucinations and all of that stuff. I'm okay now, mostly, but sometimes....what happened, it's hard for me to deal with. I get by, but sometimes if something triggers those memories or they randomly come at me, I can struggle and I've been struggling lately. The nightmare I had, it was a memory. That's what caused such a extreme dream".

Jack remained quiet for a while. Staring intently at the floor, looking both sad and furious. Sam waited for Jack to respond, but it didn't seem to be coming.

"Jack...", began Sam as he lay a hand of Jack's shoulder, only to have him jerk away violently.

"Don't touch me! Don't...", shouted Jack.

Sam's heart sank. The irrational voice in Sam's head getting louder. Jack was angry and didn't want Sam near him. Sam became afraid that telling Jack was a mistake. Maybe he had made Jack see him differently.

"I'm sorry, Jack", muttered Sam before walking out of Jack's room in a hurry.

Sam made his way through the bunker. He needed to get away. Dean, Cas and Mary had moved to the war room and they looked at Sam's haste with confusion.

"I'm going for a run", stated Sam simply.

"What's wrong?", asked Dean.

"I'm fine, I just need a run, I won't be long", dismissed Sam, grabbing his jacket and making his way out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

"Dean, is it okay if I go after Sam?", asked Mary.

It went against Dean's every instinct to allow someone else to comfort Sam instead of him, but he figured Mary and Sam needed this.

"Sure", nodded Dean as Mary left.

"What was that all about?", asked Cas.

"I don't know, but we're going to find out", stated Dean as he began marching his way to Jack's room, Cas hot on his heels.

"Jack, what the hell happened with you and Sam?", demanded Dean.

"He told me about the cage", whispered Jack, avoiding their gaze.

"And? That can't be it, Sam just ran out of here as fast as he could and he wasn't good. What did you say?", wondered Dean.

"I didn't...I didn't say anything really. Sam tried to put his hand on me and I told him not to touch me", admitted Jack.

"Why the hell would you do that?"

"I just, after Sam told me about what Lucifer did to him, Sam was trying to comfort me.  _Me_. I just don't understand how he can even look at me. I didn't deserve him to make me feel better, I should be the one helping him. It's the least I can do", admitted Jack.

Dean sighed tiredly and Cas sat down next to Jack.

"Jack, you are not him. You are not responsible for the things he did. Nobody blames you, especially not Sam, he loves you. Has right from the start", reassured Cas.

"Cas is right, kid. I get what was going through your head, but it might have looked like something else to Sam", explained Dean.

"But why would I be upset with, Sam? Why would he think telling me about that would cause me to have a problem with him?" Jack was clearly confused.

"Because Lucifer messed Sam up. Sam...he sometimes has a hard time believing that it's not his fault, that it isn't him that should be ashamed. He probably thinks he's made you see him differently than before", told Dean.

"I didn't mean to upset him, I'm sorry", apologised Jack.

"It's okay, you can explain things to him when he comes back with Mary".

* * *

Mary chased after her youngest son. She need to speak to him, but now she thought about it, she had no idea what to say. She didn't have much time to think as she quickly caught up with Sam. He wasn't running, instead he sat on the ground, back against a tree stump and knees close to his chest. Sam startled at Mary's arrival.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure you're okay", smiled Mary gently.

"It's okay, just a little jumpy I guess. I'm okay though, you don't need to worry about me".

Mary sat on the ground, close by to sam.

"Dean and I had a talk", stated Mary simply.

"You did?"

"Yeah. I mean, I knew some vague details about what you've been through, but I had no idea just how tough things were for you when I was gone. I wish more than anything that I could take this pain away from you. I also wish I'd had been there for you in the aftermath of it all. I missed so much".

"You're here now".

"I am, yet I still feel just as useless as I was dead", admitted Mary.

"You're not useless, mom. I'm just glad to have you around. I mean, I wouldn't blame for running a mile considering all this baggage".

"Sam, the things you've been through don't make you a burden. You're not Sam + baggage. You're a person, with strengths and weaknesses and pain and insecurities. Like everyone is. The fact that you've been through way more tragedy that your typical person doesn't mean you're harder to love. Sam, loving you is not heavy. You make loving you so easy. That's why, when I first came back, that I struggled to...let you in", admitted Mary.

"What do you mean?"

"I know that it might have seemed like, in the beginning, that I tried harder with Dean than I did with you, but it wasn't because I cared less. Dean was happy to have me back, but he still held me accountable, you know? He made it clear when I hurt him, but you? You were just so damn understanding about everything. You're heart was so open. You tried so hard with me and I...it made me feel even worse about what I'd put you through. I pushed away from you because of what I did. Even before I knew everything you and Dean had been through, I knew that my deal brought that demon into your room when you were just a baby. I made that happen. So, the reason why I was distant was because I could barely look you in the eye knowing the life I set up for you. When Dean visited that world I'd made in my head, I'd realised how I'd messed everything up. The only way I can make up for my mistakes is by being the best mother I can be now, not pushing you away. Then, so much happened and I realised I never really sat down with you to talk properly. To let you know that the distance I put between us wasn't because I didn't care. I love you so much, Sam and I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you were hard to love", confessed Mary, blinking away tears.

"I love you too, mom and I get it. I do. And I know I have issues, but they were around long before you came back. They're not on you. You don't have to feel responsible for the bad stuff, you especially don't have to feel responsible for the cage. That had nothing to do with you. I made my own choices", assured Sam, his own eyes reddened.

"It's not your fault either you know?"

"You don't know everything, mom. You don't know what I did".

"You mean the demon blood and the seals?"

Sam's head shot up as he looked shocked at his mother, but surprise was soon replaced by shame as his eyes returned back to his hands. Sam unconsciously began to press into the palm of his hand, a habit he hadn't lost from when the wall broke. Mary grabbed the hand that Sam was using to press into his palm and squeezed it tight.

"When I was staying with the British Men of Letters, they told me, they were selective with what they told me about you boys, but they told me that. It wasn't your fault, Sam. I was the reason you had demon blood in you at all and you were manipulated by both demons and angels alike. You did the best you could when all odds went against you and you saved the world. You did something that should have been impossible. You did not deserve what happened to you, Sam. Not even a little. No deserves that, but especially not you. I'm so proud of you and the man you've become".

Sam went to speak, but halted as he clenched his jaw and swallowed back emotion.

"Can I hug you, Sam?", asked Mary softly.

Sam wrapped his arms around Mary in response. Mary held Sam tight, laying a hand on his head. She hated that her kids suffered so much. She hated how helpless she felt. She hated not knowing what to do to make it all better. As she hugged her youngest, Mary didn't want to let him go, afraid of all the hurt the world seemed to throw at him would continue. She wanted to keep him safe and make sure no harm ever came to him again. But she knew she couldn't, so she had to resign herself to the fact that the most she could do for her boys, was be there for them. Offering them a shoulder to cry on and a hand to hold. It wouldn't ever be enough, but it's all she could do.

The hug eventually ended and Sam smiled sheepishly at Mary.

"Mom, just so you know, having you here, telling me all this stuff and being there...it's what I dreamed of my entire life", smiled Sam.

Mary smiled and kissed Sam's head.

"As much as I'd be happy to stay out here with you talking forever, we should head back to the bunker. I don't know what happened with Jack, but that kid loves you. You should talk to him", suggested Mary.

Sam nodded, standing up and offering his hand to help Mary up. They both walked back to the bunker, Mary's arm around Sam's shoulder.

* * *

Dean's head shot up as he heard the doors to the bunker open. Mary and Sam walked down the stairs and Dean noticed that both of their eyes looked at little red and puffy. Despite that though, both looked considerably brighter than before.

"Hey, you both good?", asked Dean, squeezing Sam's shoulder.

"Yeah, we're good", smiled Sam, "Where's Jack?"

"He's in his room. He wants to talk. It wasn't what you thought", told Dean.

Sam nodded and made his way back to Jack. When he got there Jack was sat facing the door, waiting for him.

"I'm sorry, Sam."

"I should be the one apologising. I just dumped all of that on you and ran. I'm sorry".

"Sam, how I reacted, it wasn't because I was upset with you. Hearing about what happened to you, it would have been bad enough to hear that you'd been through that anyway whoever was the cause, but knowing it was Lucifer...I'm from him, Sam. I'm made up from who he was. There's no way that someone as evil and disgusting as Lucifer would not have passed some of those traits on to their child. Dean was right when I was first born. I should have been hunted. That's why I told you to get away, because I don't understand how you even look at me, never mind touch me, knowing who my father is", admitted Jack quietly.

"Hey, you can't help who your biological father is. None of what he did is your fault. You are nothing like him, trust me, I spent hundreds of years with him. That's why I can look at you Jack, because when I look at you, I don't see a trace of him within you. You're too good to be anything like him. Did you know that I had demon blood in me?"

Jack finally looked at Sam, in surprise before shaking his head.

"So you had demon blood in you, but you still managed to save the world, be a hero? How did it happen?" asked Jack hopefully.

"Before Dean and I were even born, our Father died and Mary made a deal with a demon to get him back. The stipulation for the deal, which Mary didn't realise at the time, was that when I was baby, the demon would come to me and bleed into my mouth. When I got older, I started experiencing psychic abilities. The blood, it scared the hell out of me. I felt so wrong and dirty. I was terrified of turning into a monster. Don't get me wrong, I made mistakes and wrong choices because I'm human, but the demon blood didn't make me a monster. We can't control where we come from, Jack, but we can control our own actions and choices. We get to decide if we want to help or hurt people, if we fight on the right side. You'll make mistakes because everyone does, but what's important is that you're heart is in the right place. You have such a huge heart. You share blood with Lucifer, but it's your actions and your love that makes you so much better than he could ever be. So please, Jack, don't take on any responsibility for what he did to me. It's the last thing I want".

"Thank you Sam", smiled Jack as flung his arms around Sam, "and if there's anything I can do to help you?"

"Thanks Jack, but having you around, having you all around, is enough".

"Sam. I'm also sorry for what happened in the other world. I was so desperate to know Lucifer, so desperate to see good in him. That must have been horrible for you. When I was first born, my mother died, Cas died and Dean was still scared of what I was, but you were there. Despite everything that I must have reminded you of, you were there for me. When I had no one else. You showed me kindness and patience and love, when I needed it most. You gave me a chance. And then he came along and I just gravitated towards him. After all you'd done for me and I just, I went to the person who hurt you so badly...", Jack trailed off emotionally.

"Hey", interrupted Sam as put his hand on Jack's shoulder, "It's okay, you didn't know. You didn't know. It's natural for any kid to want to know their biological parents, no matter who that parent is. Plus, I know better than anyone just how good Lucifer is at manipulating people. The fact that you wanted to believe that he could have some good in him makes me proud and it makes you who you are. You want to see the best in people and I don't want this life to make you lose that".

"I love you, Sam", stated Jack quietly.

"I love you too, kid", smiled Sam.

"I've read that people should talk about their feelings in order to maintain a healthy mind, so if you ever need of want to talk, I'm here and I promise you I won't blame myself", offered Jack.

"Thank you, I'll bare that in mind. Now, I'm going to go get some breakfast. When you're ready why don't you come and have breakfast with us?"

"Yes, I'll just get changed out of my pyjamas and then come out", smiled Jack, "Thanks again".

Sam smiled at Jack before turning up to leave. Maybe Jack was right. Maybe the key to getting himself out of this funk was by talking. By no means was it a cure all, but Sam felt a little lighter after talking to his family. As Sam strode out of Jack's room, he was met by Cas in the hallway.

"Cas...how long have you been standing here?"

"I apologise, Sam. I came to check you and Jack were okay, but I heard your conversation and didn't want to intrude so I waited. I didn't mean to eavesdrop", explained Cas in his usual monotonous voice.

"It's okay, Cas. It was nothing I wouldn't say to you", shrugged Sam as he began to walk through the bunker with Cas.

"After hearing your conversation, it made me realise that I never truly thanked you for looking out for Jack when I couldn't. Kelly wanted me to look after her son, I think she would have been very pleased to know that Jack had been in your hands. Jack is a wonderful boy and although it's down to who he is as a person, it's also down to you. To the chance you gave him. To the love you gave him. You make a wonderful guardian", stated Cas.

"Thanks, Cas, but it was nothing. Jack is easy to warm too", Sam paused, "Hey, Dean said I was speaking In enochian...so that means you probably got a glimpse at what was going on in my dream?"

"Yes, is that an issue?"

"No, it's just I told Dean one memory from the centuries in hell for the first time since it happened and it felt like ripping out of piece of myself. I just don't like the idea of people knowing what I became down there. I wasn't exactly strong", admitted Sam.

A perplexed look crossed Cas' face and Sam knew something was bothering him.

"Cas, what is it?"

"Sam, there's something I never told you. It wasn't that I was purposely keeping the information from you, I just never realised it was an issue", began Cas.

"What is it?"

"When I took on the hallucinations in that hospital, the connection it took to do that meant that I also caught a glimpse at some of your memories. I have seen some of your time there, Sam. I didn't realise it was a problem for you. I'm sorry", confessed Cas.

"It's okay, you don't need to apologise, you were saving my life", reassured Sam.

"I wouldn't have had to save your life if I hadn't broken your wall to begin with", fretted Cas.

"Hey, that's in the past. We've come along way since then and plus, you're my brother, Cas. That means I'll always forgive you ", smiled Sam.

"Thank you and for what it's worth, you have nothing to be ashamed of. From what I did see, you were not weak in the cage. After the wall came down, it took months before the damage started to affect you. When I took that damage from you, I was instantly incapacitated by it. I'm an angel, Sam. Don't you understand what that means? How much strength you possess? Your soul has been so damaged due to what happened in the cage. By all rights, even with my help, you should not be a functioning human being. You manage to help people and save the world whilst carrying around that burden. And as I've seen some of your memories from that time, I know just how heavy a burden that is. You are so strong, Sam", told Cas, staring intensely at Sam, willing his words to resonate with him.

"Thanks Cas, it means a lot", Sam's voice was a little wobbly from trying to control his emotions. It wasn't even 7 in the morning yet and his day had been such an emotionally taxing one. After his dream, all the talks he'd had with his family members had been draining. Helpful, but draining. Sam felt like he'd talked more about hell and Lucifer in a couple of hours than he had in the whole of the 7 years since his wall had fell. It was a lot and it left a heavy feeling in his chest from talking and thinking about things he wished he could forget. However, he did also feel like his shoulders were a tiny bit lighter. Sam would probably always carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, but having his family be there for him did help. Maybe, just maybe, Sam would get through it.


	5. Chapter 5

After the intense morning, everyone had agreed to having a relaxing day. They would get back to hunting tomorrow, but they had all decided that another family day was in order. They'd had breakfast together and decided to go out for lunch. They'd all gone to a nearby diner. It had been nice. It was so rare that Sam, Dean, Cas, Jack and Mary, all got to spend time together doing something other than killing monsters. It felt normal. Safe. It was exactly what they all needed after the morning they'd had. When they got back to the bunker, Dean and Jack played video games, with Dean getting hyper competitive as usual. Cas and Mary settled down and smiled affectionately at the two men. Sam quickly decided to duck into his room whilst everyone was occupied. He'd enjoyed the day, but everything was still pretty intense. Sam just need a moment to himself.

Once in his room, Sam decided to look through his memory box. Once, reminders of the past and of what they'd lost made Sam feel worse, but these days, looking through the meager belongings he had to remind him of the past, brought him peace. As Sam rifled through photo's and other mementos, there was a soft knock on the door as Mary opened the door slightly, popping her head around.

"Hey, I was just checking you were okay", began Mary, pausing when she noticed the box sitting in front of Sam, "sorry, have I interrupted?".

"No, mom, it's fine. I keep a box with little keepsakes and photo's that hold fond memories for me. I sometimes like to look through it", shrugged Sam.

"Is it something you like to keep private?" Asked Mary hopefully.

"No, you can look if you want too...I mean most of is just bits of tat that aren't really of interest to anyone but me...", shrugged Sam.

"And me", added Mary, as she sat down on Sam's bed, "I missed so much, I'd like to get a glimpse into your life".

"Okay, go ahead"

Mary picked up a pile of photos and Sam began to tell Mary the story behind each photo Mary glanced through.

"That one was taken during the first failed apocalypse. Before I fell. That's our Bobby and those two are Ellen and Jo. They were like family, but they died helping to save the world. These photos are from when we were teens. I went through a photohraphy phase. I found this super cheap Polaroid camera in a thrift store once. I took so many pictures that Summer. Dad wasn't fond of that phase, but Dean was always happy to pose. I lost a lot of our childhood photos in a fire in my apartment building at college, but Dean kept a couple and these are what's left".

There was a photo of Dean, driving the impala, looking towards the camera, obviously at Sam taking the picture. Then there was one of Dean asleep, shaving foam all over him. Mary smiled fondly, pleased that despite their upbringing, the boys had at least obviously had good old regular sibling fun. Playing pranks and just being kids. Another showed both Sam and Dean, smiling at the camera. Dean had his arm draped around Sam's shoulder and Sam held his arms forward to extend the camera. Both boys wore beaming smiles. They looked different and not just because they were younger. There eye's were different. Brighter. Happier. Mary's heart sunk.

"I like this one", stated Mary, her smile a little sad.

"You can keep it if you want? I have more photos of Dean and I".

"Really?" Said Mary in surprise, "I would love that".

Mary gently placed the photo she knew she'd treasure forever, on her lap as she continued to go through the other photos. There were others of the boys together at varying ages, doing different things. There was one of Sam, Dean and this world's Bobby. There were photos of the boys with Cas and some with, who Mary guessed was this world's Charlie. Mary stopped as she got to a photo of Sam with a blonde haired girl. The photo looked like it had originally been in a wallet, the corners slightly curled. Sam's arm was around the girl, his chin resting on her head as she leaned into Sam wearing a huge smile.

Mary looked up at Sam, a silent question that she felt like she might already know the answer to.

"That's Jess", stated Sam quietly as his eye's fell downwards. A fond, but sad smile spreading over his face.

"She was your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, we were together for quite a while when I was at Stanford".

"She was the one you lost?"

"Yeah, she died the same way you did".

Mary's breath caught in her throat. She'd never been told how Sam's girlfriend had died. Sam's words about how he'd lost photos in a fire when he was at college rung through her head.

"You mean, the yellow eye'd demon?"

"Yes, and no. He made the decision, sent another demon to do it. I had a friend at college, turned out for a large part of the time I knew him he'd been possessed. He was the one that pushed me towards Jess. They wanted me to find love and then they killed her because they thought it would help turn me 'bad'. Before it happened, Dean had come looking for me because he couldn't find Dad, I agreed to help him look. We didn't find dad, but we finished a hunt together. When we were done, I went back home. I lay down on our bed and I felt something drop on my forehead. I looked up and Jess was there. On the ceiling. Then the room went up in flames and I don't remember much else until I was in the impala with Dean. He'd just so happened to come back to see me and dragged me out of there. I wanted to get to Jess, but it was too late", explained Sam.

Mary closed her eyes and bit her lip. She kept thinking she couldn't hate herself more for the decisions she made that affected her boys, but she was constantly proved wrong.

"Sam, I'm so sorry. If I hadn't..."

"Hey, it's not your fault", interrupted Sam, "you aren't responsible for the things Azazel did and they were pretty intent on their plans. I'm pretty sure they'd have found some way around it, whether you made the deal or not. Our lives were always manipulated by angels and demons. I don't blame you, mom. I know what it's like to go down dark paths when you lose someone you love".

"You really loved her, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did. I was so young. I was 22, a kid really and I feel a little detached from who I was then. I spent hundreds of years in the cage and the memories I have from when I was younger just seem so far away. I'm not the same person as I was then. I think that makes it a little easier, to be slightly detached from it, but I don't think I ever really get over any of the people we've lost. I loved her completely though. I was looking at rings, I wanted to marry her", admitted Sam.

Mary squeezed Sam's hand and after a while, Sam let out a sigh and moved on to other things in the box. Sam and Mary spent almost a hour going through photo's, old tickets from old movie theatres, gigs Dean had taken Sam too and wrestling matches. Leaflets from nursing homes, serial killer themed gimmick hotels and diners they'd gone too. Worn books that Sam had explained had been gifts from Dean. Little plastic toys that Dean had won and given Sam as a Christmas present as a kid. A pencil which had apparently been the first thing Sam had helped Jack control his powers with. Old comic books. A pendant. Lot's of little nick knacks that would mean nothing to most, but looked so precious to Mary.

"You know, Dean will have some stuff too. I know he would be more than happy to show you".

"I missed so much with you both. When I met John and got pregnant...that was my dream. I always wanted out of hunting and I got it. I wanted a normal life, but I should have known that wasn't going to happen. I wanted my kids lives to be different than mine. I wanted you boys to have the white picket fence childhood. I wanted to go to your high school graduations and to help you move your stuff into your college rooms. I wanted you to have everything and I wanted to be there for it. When that demon came for me, it wasn't just me that lost my dream. You boys did too. Sometimes I feel so angry at John for the way he raised you. Toni Bevell said something to me once. Said that the way John raised you both was basically abuse. That he neglected you both and seeing how you boys are, how much you rely on eachother, I can see that you've always had to count on eachother, meaning John obviously wasn't all that reliable. When I think about that I want scream at him. Then I feel guilty for being angry at him when I'm the reason he ended up like he did. John was such a caring and compassionate man when I met him. If I hadn't have made that deal, his grief wouldn't have turned him into the man who wasn't their for you boys".

"I know as well as anyone what it's like to have mixed feelings when it comes to Dad. We didn't have a great relationship growing up. Dean worshipped him, but I struggled to accept how he raised us. When I was really small I was so desperate to hunt and to be with my family and to please dad, but when I hit the teen years that turned into resentment and defiance. I felt like no matter what Dean or I did, it would never be good enough, so I stopped trying and started rebelling. We argued a lot, even up until his death. I don't have the stubbornness or anger I used to have in me anymore. It's too tiring and I've mostly found peace with our childhood and my relationship with dad. He wasn't perfect and grief doesn't make the things he did okay, but he did the best he could. After Jess died, I feel like I understood him a little better. He was obsessed with killing the yellow eye'd demon. I think he thought once he'd done that, he'd feel better...I know I did. In his own head, he was doing the only thing he could for us in finding the thing that took our mother away. No matter his reasoning though, dad's actions are not your fault. He made his own decisions", stated Sam.

"You don't have to always make me feel better for this stuff. You're allowed to feel angry, at me and at your life".

"I used to be so stubborn and I had a lot of anger inside of me, but I don't know if it's age or life or whatever, but I just don't have that in me anymore. Life's too short. A while ago Dean did something I wasn't happy about..."

"The angel he tricked you in to possessing?", interrupted Mary.

"He told you about that?" Mary just nodded sadly.

"Yeah, when Dean did that I was so angry. I don't think I've ever been angrier with him. Deep down I was hurt, but it was easier to deal with if I was furious. I'm not saying that I didn't have the right to upset or mad about it because I did, it was wrong, but instead of dealing with it, I pushed him away. I said hurtful things. Dean's the only person I've ever really fully trusted in my life and we've both lied to eachother and done things the other didn't like, but that felt different. A different type of betrayal. I didn't think he'd ever do anything like that and when he did it felt like everything was a lie, so I pushed him away. Kept him at a distance, and then he died. I regretted not making it right so much. It hurt so badly. Dean made a mistake and I punished him for it and when it was too late, I wished I could have talked it through with him. Forgave him and moved forward. I've learnt through experience that life is too short to hold onto grudges, especially against the people you love. I'm constantly aware of the possibility that those I love might not be there tomorrow, so I can't get angry like I used to. It's too tiring. It's too risky", explained Sam. 

"You can feel angry without pushing people away though, Sam. You can express that anger without it meaning you losing something. You can tell me how I hurt you and it won't make me leave you, Sam. I won't walk away".

"I'm not going to lie, when you first came back, I was hurt. When you left, when I first found out you were working with the British Men of Letters, and when I noticed how you seemed to connect more with Dean, it hurt. But I always understood. I get why you had to do those things", admitted Sam, "After you died, you became this kind of holy figure in the family. Dad and Dean idealised you as this perfect thing. Dean and dad didn't believe in God, they believed in you. I always felt like I was the odd on out because I never had any time with you. Then when you came back, I think Dean and I treated you like you were this idealised perfect person and that wasn't fair. You're human. We all make mistakes and have flaws. When I accepted that having you back didn't mean we were going to be this perfect family, it made it easier. I understood that it was hard for you. That we were all just kind of feeling around in the dark, trying to figure out our new roles in the family. And after our talk today, I understand even more. For a while, I thought it was harder for you to bond with me than it was, Dean. I understood that too because Dean was a little person when you died, you knew him, where as I was a baby. You didn't know me and I thought that made it harder for you to connect with me and I got it, but it hurt, but now I know the real reason you kept me at arms length. So mom, I'm not secretly angry at you, but surpressing it, I'm really not angry. I just want to carry on getting to know my mom".

"You have such a big heart", smiled Mary as she held Sam's hand, "Hey, maybe some timewhen you're not busy we could spend some one on one time together? Carry on getting to know eachother?"

"I'd love that", beamed Sam.

"Good", grinned Mary, "Now, I think we better go join the others or they'll send out a search party for us".

* * *

They'd spent the rest of the day doing more of the same. Watching tv, talking and eating. Mary even got the board games out at one point and learnt Jack how to play monopoly. It was a Winchester lazy day. As night time came around, Mary hit the hay pretty earlier after their impromptu early morning. Jack and Cas also retired to their respective rooms, leaving Sam and Dean alone. 

"Tired?", asked Dean, but his tone suggested that he already knew the answer.

"Not even a bit. You?"

"Wide awake. Fancy going for a drive?" Suggested Dean.

"Sounds good".

Dean grabbed a six pack of beers from the fridge and followed his brother out to the impala. Before long, they were on the road and both of the brothers found themselves loosening the tension in their bodies and relaxing. They both loved the bunker. It was nice after spending your entire childhood on the road, to finally have somewhere to go back to. Some place that was there's. And they both loved how their family had grown. It was amazing to have Mary back, Jack had brought a new light into their lives and as for Cas, he'd been family for a very long time and both of the brother's loved him dearly. However, there was always something about being in the impala, on the road, just the two of them, that just felt  right . It made them let down their guards. Filled their heart with a destinct feeling.  _Home_ . 

Dean considered that it had been far too long since they'd grabbed a beer, drinking it on the hood of baby, under the stars. Dean thought that it was as good a time as any. More than that, Dean thought about Sam. As much as Sam had been the brother who'd dared to dream about getting out of this life, he was even less comfortable staying in one place than Dean was. When they'd first found the bunker, Dean had been bothered that Sam didn't seem to be turning it into their home. Didn't want to add the personal touches Dean had. It had confused Dean. Sam who wanted an apple pie life, Sam who'd gone to Stanford and lived with Jess, seemed intent on keeping the bunker as clinical as possible. Dean didn't understand at first until he really thought about. Dean had 4 years of a normal life. It was barely anything and he was so young he didn't remember most of it, but he did have memories. Memories of a nice house and mother and father who doted on them. Sam had never had that. His entire experience of family and home was on the road. It was easy to want something you've never had and Sam had tried, really tried, to find that normal life. But it had never worked out. Jess had died, their home burnt to nothing. Bobby's house, a second home, also burnt to the ground. Then the thing with Amelia didn't work out. It never worked out for Sam. Dean began to realise that the only experience Sam had of a home was the life John had given them and the few times when Sam had dared to ask for more, it had ended tragically for him. Dean began to understand Sam's reluctance to make the bunker home because for Sam, the only real home was the impala. That was his safe space, which was kind of ironic considering the amount of injury and hardship they'd nursed in that car. Eventually, Sam did begin the relax more in the bunker. Dean saw him slowly begin to let himself get comfortable there. It slowly did become a home, but still, the impala was always their true home. 

That's why Dean suggested a drive. He knew the day had been really taxing for Sam. He also knew that when Sam's hell memories got bad, he didn't like to feel closed in or trapped and the brothers were never more free than driving in baby. So Dean figured it'd do Sam good to be spending time in the impala and he thought that Sam might need a little space from the rest of their family. Sam loved Jack, Cas and Mary, but Dean knew he put on a brave face around them. Even with Dean, Sam tried to maintain a front of being better than he was, but occasionally, Sam let the mask slip in front of Dean and after the day he'd had, he wanted to give Sam the opportunity to feel whatever it was he was feeling. And sure, it might do Dean good too. The impala and Sam. They were his home too. 

Dean drove until he found a place not to far from the bunker that was good for the purpose. He parked up, and the brothers wordlessly got out and sat on the trunk of the impala. They didn't talk at first, but it was an easy silence. They just say there for 30 minutes, it was peaceful, until eventually Dean saw a familiar look cross Sam's face and Dean knew Sam had gone a little too far into his own head.

"Some day, huh?", began Dean, an effort to snap Sam out of his thoughts. Dean was satisfied it'd worked at least a little when Sam looked at him and his eye's looked slightly clearer. 

"Yeah, I don't know how to explain it besides I kind feel like how I imagine a cloth does when it's been run out really tight", smiled Sam with a little huff.

"Sounds about right. I'm guessing your conversations with mom and Jack weren't exactly light and fluffy", said Dean carefully trying to start the conversation with Sam.

"Definitely not light. It was...weird. Talking about such intense stuff and so much".

"Yeah, I guess we're not usually the most talkative pair".

"Oh no, you're definitely talkative, Dean. You talk a lot. A  lot ", laughed Sam, "Just not usually about feelings and stuff". 

"Oh, it's payback. Do you realise what a pain in the ass you were when you first learnt to speak? You did not stop", joked Dean. 

"Lies. I was an angel", smirked Sam. 

"In all seriousness though, we should try this talking thing a little more. We are always at are best when we're together, on the same page. When I think about the worst times in our relationship, a lot of it could have gone a lot differently if we'd had communicated a little better. I know a good share of that is on me. I closed you off a lot in the past. Refused to acknowledge any of the crap that went down even when you did want to talk and I shouldn't have. I didn't know any better, I only had dad to take example of, but I should have spoke to you more", said Dean.

"Dean, you're not the reason why I don't talk about stuff. I've encouraged you to talk about stuff, but I'm just as guilty of shutting down and shutting people out when things get tough. I know if I came to you and told you that I needed to talk and that I needed you to listen, you'd drop whatever. It's just that sometimes, I feel like not talking about it is the only thing keeping me together. I feel like speaking about it will just unravel all of the crazy inside my brain. Pushing it down is the only way to keep it contained", explained Sam.

"Or maybe you just push it down until it explodes. Pushing everything down may work in the short term but those issue's have to go somewhere and when that happens, the lid blows off. Look at me. How many times have I buried my feelings in alcohol, women and hunting and how many times has it ended in disaster?"

"I feel like a bit of role reversal is going on with this conversation", laughed Sam, "but you're right. You need to take your own advice too".

"Okay, let's make a deal. If you try to be a little more open and talk to me when things are tough, I'll try to do the same. We've done good, these past few years. After Gadreel and the mark, we learnt from our mistakes...mostly and we've been the best we have been in years. We have to continue in that direction", bargained Dean.

"Yeah, I know. We do and we will, but not talking about the cage or  _him_ ,  that's different than the type of secrets we've kept in the past that have had really bad consequences. It's not that I'm keeping something from you, it's just...what good is going to do to keep on digging up all the memories and telling you every single thing he did to me? It's not going to help our relationship. It's just going to make you feel responsible and me feel like...like I'm still not free", countered Sam. 

"This kind of stuff may not have world ending consequences if we don't talk about them, and I get that you have to deal with your own stuff in your own way, but in times like this, it seems obvious that keeping it to yourself isn't helping. I'm not saying that you have to tell me anything you don't want too, but you need to start allowing yourself to feel bad about this stuff. You don't have to have it together all the time. I hate that because of this life, you've had to work with him, save him, for the greater good. I hate that you had to deal with him being in our home and I know we didn't have much of choice, but we do get to choose how we deal with it. I'm here, Sam. I'm always here". 

"I know", nodded Sam, "And hey, least you don't have to worry about working with him anymore. He's dead."

"Yeah, he's dead", stated Dean flatly, "I thought killing him would be more satisfying but it wasn't enough".

Sam just kept his eyes fixed on the sky, his jaw clenched. 

"Is that what caused this? His death?" Asked Dean.

"After Michael took over and disappeared...I remember being on my knees. Just staring at the scorch marks his wings left. I felt frozen. I just knelt there staring at his body and I thought I'd feel good, but I just felt nothing. But I didn't have much chance to dwell on it because you were gone and something awful was happening to you and I needed to help you and then Nick woke up and there wasn't time. There's never any time. Then when we got you back, there was nothing to keep me focused. I could bury it all while I was focused on finding you because that's all that mattered. With nothing to throw myself into, there was nothing to stop those feelings from sinking in", admitted Sam, "So yeah, I think Lucifer dying and then Michael being around...I know he's not the Michael who I shared the cage with, but he's still Michael, you know?"

"Yeah. It's a lot. And I wasn't there to help you through it", sighed Dean, his tone regretful. 

"It's not like you had much of a choice in that, Dean. You were going through something horrible."

"Maybe so, but I wish things went differently", admitted Dean, "So now, it has hit home, how do you feel about it?"

"Honestly, I don't even know. It's like there's so many emotions fighting for front place in my head, but I don't know what I'm supposed to feel", admitted Sam.

"I don't think you're  _supposed to_ feel anything.There's no right way or wrong to react. It's not a normal situation. Whatever your brains got to do to deal with this, it's okay".

"I guess, I just thought, that once he was gone, for good, I'd finally feel free. But I don't. He still has just as much power over me in death as he did in life. I'm never going to be free. When I said there's a lot of different emotions going on? That's the only thing that's consistent. That feeling of being imprisoned. Even when they took me out of the cage, I never really left", explained Sam, "Sometimes I feel anger. I feel so angry at him and at God or the world and I wish more than anything that the anger would stick because that feels so much better than the other stuff. It feels stronger. But the anger never sticks for long because deep down, I always know that I deserved what was happening to me. It was what had to happen to fix what I broke. And the thought of that extinguishes the anger and when that's gone...There's just pain".

Sam's voice came out choked, his voice sounding strangled in the way it always did when Sam was trying to keep it together. The sound always caused a twinge in Dean's chest. 

"Sam...you didn't deserve it", whispered Dean thickly. 

"It doesn't matter. None of it matters. I'm, I'm being stupid. I just need to pull myself together and I will, I will", said Sam as he cleared his throat and tried to shrug it off.

"It matters, Sam. It matters to me. And it matters to mom and to Cas and Jack. It matters", argued Dean. 

"You hate all this touchy feely crap, Dean", laughed Sam, but he couldn't quite inject humour into his tone. 

"I hate seeing you in pain. I hate how helpless I feel to prevent it. I hate how I have no idea how to respond in a way that makes you feel better. But I don't hate you talking to me, Sam. I want you too", admitted Dean.

Sam offered a small smile before looking down to his beer, "You don't need to say anything. Having you be there is enough".

The brothers let silence fall between them again for a little while. Once again, it was Dean who broke it.

"You said you never stay angry...what's going on with you when you're not angry?" Asked Dean carefully.

"Everything. His death made me feel Happy. Relieved. Pain. Confusion. Hatred. Fear. Joy. I feel everything and it's all just too much. I even feel  _grief_ .  How messed up is that?!", spat Sam as the quiver returned to his voice and he screwed his eyes shut. 

"You're grieving?", questioned Dean, but there was no judgement in his voice. Just concern.

"It's hard to explain, I mean, I don't miss him. I hated ever being in his presence. Having him close by, touching me, it made my skin feeling like it was peeling off. I could never miss him, but there's this feeling that I can't explain or put a better word to other than grief. I know it doesn't make much sense, but I was in the cage for centuries. The human mind can't usually even really grasp how long hundreds of years is because our brain can't comprehend what we don't know, but those centuries in the cage...they were an eternity. I spent more time in hell than I ever will on earth. I spent more time with him, than I will ever spend with anyone. As time went by in the cage, Michael got bored of me. After a while, I didn't even register that Michael or Adam existed. It was just me and him. Forever. He was my entire reality for a long time. And now he's gone and I'm glad he's gone, I'm so so glad, but it's also left this...emptiness. Like somethings missing. As much as I hated it, at times it felt like Lucifer was apart of me and now that parts gone and I thought, _hoped_ , that, that part being gone would mean the pain he caused would also be gone. But all of the pain and all of the bad stuff is still there. It's just now, there's this big empty space along side of it", explained Sam, "I know clearly that I hated him, and I would never mourn him, but there's still this grief eating away at me and it doesn't make any sense...I don't understand it".

"It makes sense, Sam. You hate him, but you still spent a whole lot of time with him. He hurt you so badly, but he was all you knew. It makes sense that him dying would cause grief", reassured Dean.

"I don't miss him. You, you know that, right? I don't miss him. I could never, I hate him. And I don't want to make it seem like I wanted him around", began Sam, losing the hold on his emotions as his words became more erratic and Sam's eyes began to fill. 

"Sam, hey! Sammy...I know that. Of course I know that. The situation is far from normal, but I'm pretty sure your feelings in relation to him dying, are normal. You don't have to judge yourself for how you feel", reassured Dean.

Sam nodded, as if the action would make him believe Dean's words. 

"You know, I kept thinking that maybe I'd have felt better if it'd been me. If I'd have been the one to do it", admitted Sam, "I mean, I'm thankful, I'm glad you killed him...but I kept thinking, maybe if I could have been the one to kill him, that I'd feel better now. Maybe if I got the chance to do it and to really make him suffer the way he did me, maybe I wouldn't feel so damn helpless".

"I wish it had have been you to do it, Sam. You deserved to make that bastard pay, but for what it's worth? I don't think it would have changed anything. I think this is just something you have to work through".

"Yeah, you're probably right", nodded Sam as he looked towards his beer bottle.

"Hey", began Dean as he beckoned Sam closer to him and lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "Thank you. For telling me what's going on with you. And I'm sorry that I can't make this better. I wish I could do more".

"Dean, you've already done everything for me. There's no way I'd have made it through half of the crap that's happened if I didn't have you fighting beside me. Don't ever feel like it not enough", stated Sam seriously. 

"Now who's being all mushy", laughed Dean, but his voice was thick with emotion. 

"Yeah well, you're rubbing of on me", grinned Sam.

"You're going to get through this, you know that right?", smiled Dean.

"Yeah. We're going to get through this", added Sam, "...Jerk".

"Bitch", grinned Dean.


End file.
